Travel Rogue

August 02, 2005

Runner's Denial

It is past midnight and I am looking forelornly at the big toe on my right foot. Well, the toenail rather. A few months ago, when I was a non-runner training for the Corporate Challenge, I took my first long run and pushed through some soreness in my big toes. Within 20 minutes, I learned that I would need to start cutting my toenails shorter. There was no way the toebox of my Nike boings were going to show any mercy. (Just learned these were the first Nike shox designed specifically for women.) I remember when I peeled off my socks that day, I looked down and my right toenail was black. That weekend, I went and got a pedicure. "You're working too hard," the manicurist said. I took that as a compliment, and blissfully watched her apply a darker red over my darkened toenail. Two more pedicures later and the darkness turned bright green. I'm talking algae green. Which was fine by me, as this color was more conducive to being hid by the lighter, more trendy pink polishes ever-so-fashionable during the summer. But alas, two months later, I can no longer deny the fact that I have sacrificed by right big toe toenail to the sport of running. I finally pulled out the Complete Book of Running and read with horror that I can expect to lose my toenail. That I should have been applying anti-fungal whatever and bandaids. Now let me tell you, my poor feet have seen everything. For five years, they were shoved into toe shoes and forced to look dainty while supporting a hundred-some pounds of ballerina. Then, they were put through sprints and quick jumps for tennis. The hard soles of biking and hiking shoes. Athletics aside, pointy-toed stilettos, ferchrissakes! And yet, I have never before witnessed such a sad sight as my little runner's toe. About a half hour ago, I flip-flopped my way over to the 24-hour grocery store to purchase an anti-fungal. It took me a good 20 minutes to decide on the one that had a brush applicator. The only reason I chose it was because there was only one left...all the other runners in my neighborhood must've purchased the remainder just minutes before my arrival. Back at home, I read the instructions word for word. I did a search on "black toenail." How depressing. Don't do this unless you have a fetish.

Luckily, I came across a newsletter that mentioned a euphemism, "runner's toe." Now that certainly sounds more comforting. Although the end result is still the same. No matter what I do, that toenail is a goner. I sat cross-legged on the floor and peeled the shrinkwrap off the anti-fungal stuff. Twisted the cap off. Shore'nuff, there's a brush attached to the cap that looks like my pink nail polish applicator. Now how hard can this be? I brace myself. Gingerly I reach the applicator out and dab at the top of my toe. To my huge surprise, I slip a little and the brush goes UNDER my toenail! I have no idea how to react!

A) The anti-fungal crap is going where it needs to go...but,
B) My toenail must be in the process of falling off!

This is terrible. My only redeeming hope is that underneath the edge of blackness is a ridge of new growth. But these traumatizing articles say that it'll take three to six months before that lovely new growth takes over! One article suggested, and I'm not kidding, that you plaster the nail bed over and paint the plaster with red nail polish. Horror! That would be like getting a boob job for a funeral!

Well, not much else I can do about it tonight. I think I'm going to sulk a little more over my impending loss and make sure to put the anti-fungal stuff next to my toothbrush so I don't forget to re-apply in the morning.

Posted by carolyn at August 2, 2005 12:25 AM

Comments

Posted by: Dave at August 2, 2005 09:43 AM

Posted by: denise at August 16, 2005 12:04 AM

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